Rebirth of Spiders
by Nokhele
Summary: Set during the Superior Spider-Man comics. The real Peter Parker is divorced from his body and placed within a 16 year old clone body. Back in high school and without powers he must find the strength to prove he is the Superior Spider-Man
1. Chapter 1

**This set in the Superior Spider-Man continuity.**

The sun rose, red and angry.

_Why did he do it?_

The young man looked up at the ceiling.

_Why did he leave me alive?_

He knew why

_Why like this?_

But not _why._

Peter sat down at the table of his apartment despondently. Cereal would be good here. He stood up and got it. He sat down and ate it. The sun slashed his eyes through the blinds, red and angry. Still.

The cereal helped his mood a little. The sugar made him optimistic, made his glass one eighths full rather than seven eighths empty. _Tink! _Peter stared confused at the spoon on the floor and sighed. So used to the strength, so used to compensating and being delicate. He'd have to forget that.

Picking up the spoon he finished his meal.

Leaving the house, Peter couldn't believe what he was doing. Couldn't believe he was going along with this… farce. But he didn't have any idea what he was doing. Looking up he saw a figure swinging between the towers. Spider-man. But not him.

No. Peter Parker or rather Peter _Ibidem_ was going to school… to _high _school. Again.

"Why are you doing this?"

Peter Parker's face smiled at him, "You should know. You were in my head. Why have I done anything that I have done?" Bitterness washed away the smile leaving behind and feral snarl, "To prove that I am the better Spider-Man!"

"You could have… killed me."

Peter Parker's—no, Otto's head nodded, " I considered it. Unlike, you I will not flinch from death when it is necessary. Like Massacre. But than I wouldn't have been a very good Spider-Man if I killed you now would I? You aren't Massacre. You are my rival but you are not evil. You were nearly my match but alas time has shown and will continue to show place as the Superior Spider-Man."

This made sense with what Peter had seen during his habitation in Otto's mind. "What will you do with me now?"

"I tracked down one of the Jackel's old bases and found one of his clones of you. A simple matter of improving on his design and placing your consciousness in it. I did take the liberty of removing your spider-powers from the clone though. So to answer what question: What will I do with you? Nothing. You will watch as I become the greatest Spider-Man the world has ever known."

The clone was of high-school age so naturally the new Peter was in high school. Otto had set him up with everything he would need. An apartment, a new identity. Everything but the things that truly mattered to Peter. Friends, family. The man could be cruel even in mercy. Evil in his goodness.

The sun was orange with hate.

As he walked the streets, he thought. Otto's plan was apparent. What was Peter's plan? He didn't know. He needed bearings.

Milton Summers High School. Not his old school but it looked cut of the same mold. More modern around the edges but a decade hadn't changed much about these sort of places. Too many kids and too few teachers. He walked its halls occasioning little comment. He looked perfectly normal. Even if he was new, most kids wouldn't notice. School was too large for that kind of circumspection.

The head office pointed his way to his homeroom quickly enough. They seemed professional enough. Good people.

The homeroom as close to quiet as the school could get, most of the ambient noise filtering in from the hallway. A pair of girls chatted in the corner. One African-American, black hail shoulder length, the other Hispanic ponytail, athletic, familiar. Conversation was dull to listen but probably interesting if you knew the people mentioned. The other students were the refugee types. Each alone with their own happiness. One dozed. Another read. One tapped away at her phone.

Peter stood awkwardly against a wall and occasioned comment by the two gossiping girls. He wished he could have sat, but didn't want to risk assigned seats making a fool of him.

"Who's he?"

"Don't know"

They discussed it briefly but eventually got bored with speculation and moved on to more heady subjects. Boys probably. Or cheese. Or the physics of dying paint. He could list off innumerable subjects more interesting than "boy who leans on wall."

The bell rang and the noise washed in from the hallway. Teens took seats and a middle-aged women went to the front of the class. She saw me and gestured me towards the front of the room. "Peter, right?"

He smiled, a friendly face worked wonders on his mood. Maybe he could turn this new life around, work it into a windfall. The teacher introduced him under his new identity and pointed him to a seat. The rest of home room was mostly announcements and similar fair.

He let most of the other students file out before getting up, not wanting to be jostled in the rush. He felt frail in this new body. As he left, he noticed the two girls-who-talked were also leaving and approached them, "either of you know where room 135 is?"

Pony-tail smiled and nodded, "Peter, right? Its down the hall I'll show you."

They walked, Peter talked, "You have class here?"

"No… I have english this period, yours is science."

Silence lingered a moment, the girl seemed to be thinking and Peter wondered if she also was at a loss for something to say, "I know they called your name during roll but I missed it."

"Aña Corazon. I'm sorry I should have introduced myself."

The more he talked to her to more something nagged in the front of his brain about her.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun loomed yellow and insistent.

_Why am I doing this?_

Its rays warmed his back and pushed him forward.

_What can I accomplish?_

He took his first step.

_Nothing for it but to go for it._

Began to run.

_I'm gonna make it. I'm not gonna make it. I'm gonna-_

He jumped.

"No, the short cut is to multiply coefficients in the initial expression by the power of the variable and then you reduce the powers by one. E.g. 4x^2 + 3x + 1 becomes 8x + 3. That's the easy way to take the limit. But I am pretty sure your teacher wants you to use the formula f(x+h) - f (x) / h." Peter pointed to the formula in Aña's text book. She nodded slowly at first than more rapidly as understanding down. It was amusing. He felt bad for feeling that way as it was rather condescending but he couldn't help it. Seeing students learn reminded him of his teaching days.

Rocky shook her, "Yeah but I do get that equation, and your 'shortcut' seems… randon."

Peter smiled and went through the formula with the girls again. He didn't mind. It wasn't as grand as his time working for Horizon but he was doing good things here. No matter how small it might seem to him, to these girls it was a big deal.

For the first few days, he had been despondent, coming home from school and sitting about, not doing much of anything. High-school homework, even his advanced classes, was not intellectually stimulating. He felt like he had gotten thrust back to a period of his life he thought he had grown past.

But then he started spending time with Aña and Rocky and it helped him change his perspective. He didn't have to focus on what he was repeat but rather the good he could do with the time he had been given. Even though his motto always been "With great power comes great responsibility." That wasn't an excuse to just walk away once the power was gone. He might not be able to do as much but what he could do he had a responsibility to accomplish.

So here he was using the skills he had to do good where he could.

They studied in the library until Rocky had to leave, she was going to have and early dinner with her father. Aña and Peter lingered on a while, nominally studying but primarily just talking. "You and Rocky live together? You're parents live out of town? I never hear you mention them."

Instantly, Peter knew he had stepped in a land mine. Her pained expression. He raised his hand to stop her, "You don't need to say anything. I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked."

"It's not your fault, its just my father… its still fresh."

" I understand, I've been there. My uncle, the man who raised me…its been a…" he hesitated. If he told her it had been a long time it would risk exposing his true age. His uncle was ten years dead but saying that would raise questions.

Fortunately Aña took his hesitation to mean the pain was recent for him has well. "I know. Don't worry, I am blessed with a roommate like Rocky and many friends." She smiled, "I can hang out with Sue Richards of the Fantastic Four if I want. So, I don't have to face it alone. You have family?" she asked, "I remember that sadness when you arrived… you must have just moved…"

Peter felt bad. Aña was creating his lie for him but he was still going along with it. Still, he couldn't just come out and start about his body being possessed by his arch-enemy and… well he just couldn't say that. "Not really. A…friend of my uncles is taking care of me. I'm lucky he even bothered as its pure charity for him. But he set me up with an apartment."

"I feel like we met for a reason." Aña earnestness bled through her words and for a moment Peter was caught flat-footed. He had often wondered why the things happened in his life the way they had but he couldn't agree with a teleological reasoning. That said it would be rude to disagree with her when she was trying to commiserate.

Peter smiled, trying to look up lifted, and he was when he focused on the spirit behind her words, "Yeah. Things have been chaotic, lately. It would be nice if they had a reason."

"Worst case, we'll make their be a reason!" Aña's smile pulled them out of the sadness. Peter knew what he had to do.

A soon as he got to work, he set to work building a new pair of web shooters.

He was hurtling through the air. Pidgeons scattered. Pedestrians looked up and were stunned. With a flick of his wrist and a hope that loosing his spider-sense hadn't hurt his skills too much he fired a line of webbing and swung. He smiled and laughed.

He was back.


	3. Chapter 3

The lid of the trash can rolled down the street. Moments like this made him question his sanity. The street lamp flickered, coyly winking at him. Peter pushed himself up.

"Just stay down, kid." The Ox was a mountain of muscle and his voice rumbled

"Why?" Peter said through his smirk and no small amount of blood, "My rope-a-dope strategy is working perfectly! You should just give up now."

"Let's go!" Said the short man, looking dapper in his colorful suit. "Boss is gone kill us if we stick around long enough to get nabbed. 'sides Spider-Man's been brutal lately, rather not get caught by him."

Peter had always wanted the name Spider-Man to be whispered about by the big bads of the underworld, but not because of brutal connotations. He had to figure out to resupplant Otto and make everyone realize who he was. Sadly, the Jackel's habit of cloning him meant that just showing up with a body and a claim would not carry the weight it might have with other heroes. He wondered if Captain Marvel had this problem.

In the moment, however, his problems were threefold and fast departing. A strand of webbing caught Fancy Dan's ankle and a sharp tug sent him face first into the pavement. "Don't go! I haven't given you your parting gift: a concussion!" He needed a plan.

The fight was showing him just how much he had relied on his famed "proportionate strength and speed of a spider." It had been the foundation from which his crime fighting skills had been built. He'd never been a fan of rug pulling, least of all when the rug was under him. Even Shang-Chi's lessons in "Spider-Fu" were predicated on the possession of his spider-enhanced capabilities.

All in all, this heroic enterprise could been a little more thought out.

He could still run from this. But he was here now and that meant it was his responsibility to stop the Enforcers… or at least stall until the cops showed up.

Peter nabbed the bag ol' Fancy-Pants had been trying to make tracks with. He checked inside and notice a strange idol. Must be some valuable piece for Wilson Fisk's collection. Using his webbing, he strung it up on the second floor wall.

Now he just had to survive!

The Ox charged with the fury of his namesake, throwing a massive right straight when he came into range. Leaping back, Peter fired off thread of webbing at Ox face, and pulling used the man's own momentum to send him tumbling. "Think that 'have a nice trip' joke is too cliché? Probably" Everything was coming up Peter.

His arms clamped against his side and a rope constricted around his chance. "Oh yeah, Montana. I always forget about your rope tricks."

"I reckon you should make a point to remember."

Peter glared at Montana, "there shall be a reckon-ing bet us, you and I. One day."

Fancy Dan had recovered and was fast advancing, "Why not now, mini-webhead?"

"Mini? That's just hurtful. I'll have you-" Fancy Dan's punch across his jaw sent the words flying from his mouth. As long as it was words and not teeth. He had come to enjoy chewing in his years.

The world spun around and the ground decided to pay him a visit. A very painful visit. Montana kicked him in the ribs. "Shouda stayed down, boy."

Peter wheezed heavily, his bones didn't feel like they were in the right places. "Aww… but I'm not sleepy."

"You will be." Montana's foot went back for the coup de grace.

Montana collapsed to the ground, a black form poised on his chest. Suddenly, sounds of fighting erupt. Ox yelling. A girl's voice shouting banter. Clever material too. If she gave him a review card after she was done he was definitely giving her good marks in patter.

Before long and set of hands pulled Peter up and gave him the once over. "Hey Spider-girl." he said seeing the black suit she'd been wearing since the Kraven incident.

"Hey to you too. Why are you dressed up like this, you could have gotten hurt."

He stood himself up, wobbling only slightly, "I had everything under control. It was all part of my cunning plan. No man escapes the web… of Spider-Man!" that sounded hackneyed even to him. _Bad Peter._

She smiled, "Yeah. Your master plan sure involves a lot of bruises."

"I never said it was a perfect plan… only cunning. Now I must depart. I'm sure you can handle to police hand off. You seem good at paperwork." Sirens were approaching and that Peter should be a scarce Parker. Or Ibidem or whatever his name was now. He began to shuttle off but Spider-Girl followed.

"You use webbing? You still have powers from Spider-Island?"

Peter saw where this line of questioning was leading, "Don't worry, I was given the antigen and no this isn't any fancy spider-powers." he lifted the sleeve of his costume. "Just engineering. The Super-power of the common man…and Tony Stark." I whispered to her, "We're not all like him." He started heading up a building climbing up with his spiderwebbing. He missed being able to walk on wall.

She mocked pouted, adorably childish "Well that's disappointing. And her I thought you might be cool." She turned serious again, "Why are you wearing the Spider-Man get up and using his tech." Of course, she could wall crawl. Fate was coy, feckless mistress.

"Because I am Spider-Man!"

She laughed.

"What?"

"Really? You? Spider-Man? More like Spider-Boy."

"Oh so you're my distaff counterpart?"

She glared, "You wish! Regardless of how cool your tech is you need to be careful, can't have newbie heroes taking on more than they can chew."

Peter rankled. _Newbie?_ He'd been fighting bad guys when she was getting potty trained and… and suddenly he felt very old and awkward. He looked like a kid her age, masked though he was. "Don't need to treat me like a neophyte. I'm still in the design phase of my tech and needed a trail run. The next time you see me I will be as Spider-man!"

She didn't seem impressed, "Where you get this tech anyway? Not even Spider-man makes his own tech. I have it on good confidence from my twitter followers that he shops that out to some guy named Peter Parker." Her face lit up, "Wait are you Peter Parker!?"

…

Huh.

_Irony sensors… overloaded… can't repel a blast of that magnitude._

If he wasn't completely blindsided, numb, and not a little panicked, Peter would have keeled over laughing. As it was he scoured his mind for something to say. He couldn't just say 'yes' could he?

Regardless, Peter's finely honed denial skills snapped into play, "No. What? No. Stop guessing. Its called a _Secret _Identity, not a "tell all the adolescent Spider heroes' identity."

She didn't buy the denial, "Of course, _Spider-Boy."_

"Spider-man" he corrected half-heartedly.

"Uh-huh"

A thought occurred to Peter. For a while following the Kraven incident, the-hero-formerly-known-as-Araña had been without any super powers and had gotten by. Maybe… "Why don't you stop making fun of me and let's work together. I need a little help with the fighting and I'm sure you could use the sweet tech I can work up. Why don't we form a team."

"The Amazing Spider-Teens?"

"I was thinking 'Spider-Man and minion' but I suppose I can be talked into a different _nom de guerre._" He offered his hand, "Sound like a deal."

"Sure." She took his hand and shook, "and I like the name 'Spider-Girl and her childish man-slave'."

"Bite me."


End file.
